


Justice

by sansakatara



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anti Daenerys so just a heads up, BAMF Sansa Stark, Happy families, Men are gross, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, mixture of show and book canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27616438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansakatara/pseuds/sansakatara
Summary: As she sat on the high table with her husband and children cloaked in the warmth and laughter of the Great Hall, Sansa Stark felt at peace.
Relationships: Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	Justice

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the idea of what QITN Sansa would do in such a scenario after having a similar experience once in the Vale.

I.

As she sat on the high table with her husband and children cloaked in the warmth and laughter of the Great Hall, Sansa Stark felt at peace. It had been fourteen years since the North had risen itself from their knees for the last time and freed themselves of their southern chains. Fourteen years since they had taken back what once was theirs. It had not been easy, to get to this moment. Castles were easy to build in one’s mind but harder to come to life. However, Sansa knew the North had enjoyed the greater advantage than much of the South in terms of rebuilding; after the smoking ruin Daenerys Targaryen had made of Kingslanding. _All those people._

The thought made Sansa shiver, and then grow cold with renewed anger when she remembered how Arya had almost died in Kingslanding because of that wretched woman.

“Are you well, Mother?” Jocelyn’s anxious voice pulled Sansa from her thoughts. “You look like you were somewhere else, for a moment.” 

Sansa smiled and gently squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Of course, darling.”

Brynden smiled and took a sip of wine. “It’s all well, Joyce,” he said, using his pet name for her. He only ever called her Jocelyn when he was wroth with her. "Sometimes your mother just needs the quiet peace of her thoughts sometimes." 

He paused and winked at Sansa. “Especially when the gods have seen fit to give her you troublesome three.”

“We’re not troublesome.” Forgetting her courtesies, came her youngest Branda’s quick retort. 

“If there’s anyone who’s troublesome, is our dearest brother.” Jocelyn smiled, planting an affectionate kiss on her twin brother.

Ned gave the easy grin which reminded Sansa so much of Robb that it cut sometimes. “I cannot help it if trouble finds me,” he replied, duelling with his sister’s words.

Sansa exchanged fond looks with her husband as she drank in the scene of her three children. Ned, Jocelyn, and Branda - the cornerstone of Winterfell as every stone used to build it.

II.

Later as she and Brynden prepared for bed, there came a knock on Sansa's door.

"Who is it?" Sansa asked as she combed her auburn hair. 

"It's Morgan, Your Grace." The captain of her guards. "There's been an incident in the Wintertown."

"Are you sure this cannot wait until morning?" Brynden said abruptly. "Her Grace has held court all this afternoon and attended two council meetings. She is tired."

"I apologize, Prince Brynden." Although the door was barred to them, Sansa could picture the regretful smile on the man's weather-beaten face. "But her word is much needed right now."

Sansa smiled at her prince and touched his hand. "It's all right, Brynden." She said softly. 

III.

Seated in her throne, Sansa silently watched as two of her men brought forth another. The man's hands were tied, and Sansa saw the way his eyes darted about - as though hoping to find a friendly face among a sea of grim faces.

"Your Grace, one of my men found this individual being inappropriate with one of the village girls in the Wintertown," Morgan said.

"Inappropriate?" Sansa questioned, although she had a strong feeling she knew Morgan's meaning. 

Morgan grimaced. "Yes. Maisie- that's the girl, was attempting to fight him off when they came upon them."

Sansa nodded, the break in her expression ever so slight and quick as the water that ran through one's fingers. "And where is Maisie now?"

The girl stepped forward. She was hugging herself, and her expression was one of trepidation. Sansa gave her an encouraging smile, to put her at ease. 

"Maisie, is what my captain says of you and this man true?"

Maisie gulped and nodded. "Yes, Your Grace. It was just like they said. That man was trying to go where he wasn't wanted, and would have if yer men hadn't stepped in."

Sansa smiled at the young girl once more. "Thank you, Maisie." Sansa then turned to the accused. 

"What is your name?" She asked him coolly. 

"Myles, Your Grace." 

"Three people have spoken against you. Do you have anything to say in your defence?" 

Myles sneered at Maisie. "Why should I? She's a Snow, ain't she? Bastard girls are all wet for it." Maisie burst in tears. 

"I remind you, you are speaking in the presence of your queen." Morgan cried. Sansa raised a hand to quiet him.

"It's all right, Morgan. It's not me he insulted with his words." Sansa said quietly, glancing over at Maisie. 

_""My blood is stirred. And yours, I know . . . there's no wench half so lusty as one bastard born. Are you wet for me?"_

"So tell me if I have heard this right, Myles. Your justification for attacking Maisie is that she is a bastard, and as you say - all bastard girls are wet for it?"

Myles gulped. "Your Grace, I-"

"You would have done better to beg for forgiveness, then to say such a vile thing." There was enough ice in Sansa's tone to give a man frostbite. "Morgan, have this man taken to one of our cells. I'll decide his fate in the morning. For tonight, I want fear to be his bedfellow." 

"Yes, Your Grace." Morgan nodded at the two men, as they pulled Myles from the Great Hall, whose face had gone pale as milk.

Sansa watched them go before addressing Maisie. "Maisie, as it is late- perhaps you would want to stay in the castle for the night? I can set you up in one of my serving girl's quarters. I am also happy to get my Maester to give you something to aid you sleep if you feel the need."

Maisie nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Your Grace."

III.

Brynden was waiting for her when she returned.

"What was needed of you?" He asked as he took her in his arms.

Sansa smiled absent-mindedly, as she thought of a castle high in the sky, a long-dead blonde singer, and a girl he believed was a Stone. 

"Justice."


End file.
